#Julia for engineers

[learnsharewithdp]

Best Programming Language to Solve the Reynolds Equation for Lubrication Simulations

The Reynolds equation is fundamental in fluid film lubrication analysis, often solved using numerical methods like finite difference or finite element approaches. Whether you’re a researcher, engineer, or student, choosing the right programming language can dramatically impact your development speed, simulation performance, and visualization capabilities. 🔍 What is the Reynolds Equation? The…

[saishu-harachi-thegatorlord]

i made this and now everybody has to suffer too

[thattscherry]

did my own october art challenge this year, mspaintober! heres all 31 drawings i did

[sophiebyers]

Autistic Characters Being or Wearing Purple (For Autistic Peeps) (Part 1)

[ardentpoop]

I talk abt sam like “my poor sweet girl I would try cradling your head while watching you convulse on the dirty floor and bleed everywhere because I’m a caring king, unlike That Man” and I talk abt dean like “im gonna grate his penis into zucchini noodles (sexual)”

[eyeballsoup7310]

The bifrost incident x the celestial spear…… space train horror……….. Leeland is Odin. Eugene is Loki, which I suppose would make Felix a non-romantic Sigyn. The drawtectives are altogether Thor. Jancy as Lyfrassir? The Spirits are Kvasir. The passengers on the Express are the talents of the Spear. Do you see it do you see my vision

[pennifold]

There’s some kind of unbearable burden on my pumpkin…?

They cannot live in the outside world, julia!

[theofficialgirldroid]

I ABSOLUTELY HATE starting a new programming language that’s not even that different from the last one you learnt — and still having to browse through the documentation just to see the same goddamn concepts rebranded like “oh look, now we use end instead of a bracket!!” WOW!! NICE!! NOW GO FUCK YOURSELF.

[mygreenknittedsweater]

I will really see any lady in a TV show who is extremely competent, beautiful, and has a job in a scientific field and go Hey. that's my mom.

[thejaymo]

Generalist Mode | Weeknotes

I've had a really busy week this week. It's been non-stop and it seems like next week will be very much the same.

[sonsofks]

La Épica Aventura de Ciencia Ficción, Fort Solis, se Deslumbra con un Tráiler de Enfrentamiento

Fort Solis: El Juego Sci-Fi que Deslumbrará en Mac Los desarrolladores de Fallen Leaf, en colaboración con Dear Villagers, han lanzado un nuevo tráiler con reconocimientos para su aventura cinematográfica de ciencia ficción, Fort Solis, que actualmente está disponible en PC a través de Steam y en PlayStation 5. Descubre lo que dicen los críticos sobre la intensa narrativa antes de su lanzamiento…

[lucydixon]

Monopoly Meltdown

Erik Campbell Masterlist 𐴱 Main Masterlist 𐴱 Taglist 𐴱 Reading List 𐴱 Pinned Post 𐴱 Moodboard side-Blog A/N: One of y'all requested basically the opposite of Hangover hero, and this is what I came up with. Side note, I found the tortoise ouija planchette pic on Pinterest and immediately thought of the Campbell siblings doing something like that 😭

Summary: You Drop Erik off at family game night with Bobby and Julia and return to find him shit faced and being a menace.

Warning: Very brief mention of puke

The drunk texts started a little after nine.

Jumbled, mispelled words that only vaguely made sense. 

Something about Bobby cheating at Monopoly. 

You’d dropped Erik off for the biweekly Campbell sibling game night a few hours before with a case of beer and the promise to pick him up when they were finished. 

Clearly, he’d slammed a good few back in a short amount of time. 

You chuckled every time your phone chimed, amused by the play-by-play you were getting on every game. 

Eventually, you got a clearly worded, obviously typed by Julia or Bobby, ‘come get me please’, and drove back over to pick him up. 

“Oh, thank god.” Julia sighed tiredly when you knocked on the door. “He’s driving me nuts!” 

“What’s he doing?” You raised a brow, brushing past her to find your drunken partner. 

“See for yourself,” she gestured towards the living room and disappeared up the stairs. 

After venturing further into the house, you found Erik and Bobby wrestling on the ground. The coffee table was on its side, and there was monopoly money everywhere. 

“Just admit you cheated!” Erik grunted, struggling to hold his own in his drunken state. 

“I didn’t!” Bobby insisted, putting him in a headlock while he flailed. “Stop trying to fight me!” 

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. 

Bobby had bulked up a bit playing football last season, and Erik seemed to have forgotten that when he’d picked a fight. 

“What are you two doing?” You made your presence known before one of them got hurt. 

Your name fell from both of their lips. From Bobby, a sigh of relief, while Erik shouted it excitedly. 

“Bobby cheated at Monopoly.” He peeled himself off the ground and shot his younger brother a glare. 

“I did not!” Bobby rolled out of the way and huffed. 

“Ok,” You grabbed Erik by the hand before he decided to keep the argument going and tugged him towards the door. “C’mon, baby. We’re going home.” 

“Okay,” he sighed dramatically. 

“Bye, love you.” The eldest Campbell sibling nodded to his brother despite having been in a fight just a minute before. 

“Love you too.” Bobby mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest like a child. 

It never failed to warm your heart how close they were. 

“Don’t worry, Sweets” He staggered along behind you, “I’ve got plenty of love left for you.” 

You chuckled, pulling him out into the night air. 

“Thank god.” You feigned relief. 

To your surprise, you managed to get Eric into the car without issue, but in the time it had taken you to get into the driver’s seat, he was already squinting at his phone, trying to pick a playlist.  

“I can’t read this shit.” He grumbled, trying desperately to make out the words on the glowing screen to no avail. 

“Give it here.” You held your hand out for it. “Let me do it. Which playlist do you want?

“The ‘I just drank seven beers and now my super hot girlfriend is driving me home’ one.” He slurred. “You’re so pretty.” 

“Seriously,” you rolled your eyes and started scrolling through his playlists, “Which one-” 

You paused when your thumb was hovering above that exact title. 

“You fucker!” You exclaimed, laughing loudly, “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Like a few hours ago,” He couldn’t help but laugh too. “On beer number four.” 

“Thought I was gonna tap out at five, but I had to live up to the playlist!” 

“Oh my god,” you chuckled, turning the key in the engine. “You do realize that you could’ve just re-named the playlist, right?” 

It became abundantly clear based on the look on his face that he hadn’t considered that option. 

You blinked at one another for a few seconds, just long enough for the beginning of Motley Crue’s ‘Looks That Kill’ to start blaring through the speakers 

Neither of you could contain your laughter. 

It took a full minute before you were ready to pull out of the Campbell house driveway, then another fifteen to pull into your apartment complex. 

Erik trudged up the stairs, looking increasingly queasy with each step. 

You could tell as you were nearing your floor that he was going to puke, and you jogged ahead to get the door unlocked in hopes that the extra thirty seconds would increase the odds of it happening anywhere but the floor in the entryway. 

“Bathroom.” You nudged him in the right direction and locked the door behind you once you’d both made it inside. “Or sink if you can’t make it!” 

You followed him and poked your head into the bathroom down the hall, relieved to find that he’d made it. You grabbed a glass of water and a washcloth before setting them both on the bathroom counter, joining him on the cool tile floor. 

“You okay?” You rubbed his back gently when he was finished. 

“Yeah.” He rested his forehead on his arm. “Feels better actually.” 

“I bet.” You chuckled sympathetically, pulling yourself to your feet so you could run the washcloth under cold water. “My poor baby.” 

You gently rested the cool washcloth on the back of his neck, and Erik sighed in relief. 

“Think you’re done?” You asked softly, pressing the glass of water into his free hand. “Take little sips.” 

“Thanks, Sweets.” He muttered tiredly, raising his head just enough to sip the water. 

“Let's just get you up and into bed.” You kissed the back of his shoulder, nudging him gently to his feet. “Want me to brush your teeth for you?” 

“I can brush my own teeth.” Erik poked your cheek once he was up. “I’m not nearly as drunk as you were last time, missy.” 

“You’re never gonna let me forget that, are you?” you pouted softly, reaching for your own tooth brush 

“Not a chance.” He scoffed. 

As you were getting ready for bed, Erik watched you get changed, draped over the mattress, in just his boxers, feeling much better, but exhausted.

“That thong,” Erik trailed off, eyes sweeping up to your raised brow, “... Really brings out your eyes.” 

You laughed. 

The kind of laugh where you throw your head back and let it wash over you like an early morning tide. It was his favourite sound in the world. 

“Just come to bed like that!” Erik waved you over, or, to be more accurate, he tried to.

His arms felt like lead weights. 

You made a soft huffing sound, but the corners of your lips were quirked upwards as you crawled into bed with him anyway, dressed in only your thong, and slipped under the covers. 

Erik clumsily joined you and pulled you into his chest. 

“Thanks for coming to pick me up,” he muttered into the top of your head, “And taking care of me.” 

“Course.” You smiled, pressing your lips to his bare chest. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Sweets.”

Dividers and Banners by me on my side-blog @dividers-are-us

Taglist: @thewinterhunter @dogey290 @zroberts13

[sophiebyers]

Autism and PBS Kids (Edit: I had forgotten about Frazzle from Sesame Street)

[stillalivebydemand893]

Too Many Nights

(hot)

An innocent spin the bottle game didn’t just break hearts,it blew the damn roof off.🤭

It was that time again,the annual Campbell Lake Trip, where brain cells go to die and dignity gets left in the driveway. Booze was stacked in the back of the Jeep, the aux was already plugged in, and Metro Boomin was hitting harder than your childhood trauma.

"LEEEET’S FUCKING GOOOOO!!" Julia howled with four different flavored vapes in her hand, puffing the clouds away .

"Bro, no. Don't smoke that banana ice garbage in my car," Erik groaned, already done with her. "I don’t want the backseat to smell like a tropical diaper for the next month."

You were on the hood of the Jeep, pre-gaming like it was the Olympics and vodka was your sport. Exams were DONE. Summer was HERE. Life was FUN.

"Do we have to leave Paco at home?" Bobby whined, stuffing bags in the trunk like a freshly divorced dad saying goodbye to his toddler. "What if Mom cooks him by mistake again?"

"You know in some countries, that’s considered a delicacy,” you giggled, throwing on your sunglasses already feeling the buzz.

“Get in the car, princess, or he’s gonna cry,” Erik chuckled, holding his hand out like the cocky bastard he was.

You jumped into his arms and oh hellooo??was it the booze, or did his hands linger just a little too long on your waist? Hot. Steamy. Illegal-in-some-states level hot.

“Damn, Campbell. Who made you king of this clown car?” you smirked, still nestled in his arms.

“Brat,” he grinned, letting you go with a tap on your ass as he turned to start the engine.

Your skin was on fire. But not like a rash,like, good fire. You’d crushed on Erik since the day you moved in next door four years ago,but you never said a word. The Campbells were your safe space. Your emotional support chaos crew.

“PEACH. AUX. PLAY CHARLI XCX,” Julia shrieked from the backseat already with a beer in her hand.You slid into the front seat.

“Hell no,” Erik said, smacking his hand over yours before you could grab the aux cord,like some kind of playlist police. He left his hand there, warm, dominant, suspiciously sexy.

“C’mon, Kiki,” you pleaded, batting your lashes like a Disney princess .

He lifted his hand only to grab your face and squish your cheeks. “I’ll drop your ass at the train station if you try that again.”

“COME ON, YOU JACKASS. Peach—show him your boobs!” Julia yelled with the subtlety of a car crash, now halfway through her second beer.

“WHAT?!” you and Erik yelped in unison, turning to look at each other in complete panic/horny confusion.

“Girl, do you even know how to manipulate a man?” Julia snorted.

You looked at Erik. Erik looked at the road, praying for strength .

You leaned over, mischief in your grin. “Fine. I’ll show you my boobs if you let me play whatever I want.”

He blinked. “Are you buffering?”

“HELLO??” you snapped.

“Deal,” he said way too fast. Then smirked. “Only if I get to pierce them.”

OH. OH. Devil? Is that you?

“You sneaky little motherfu-” you began, but let’s be real: having Erik Campbell pierce your nips was top 3 on your “do before death” list. “Deal,” you grinned.

“You guys are FREAKS,” Bobby sighed from the backseat, watching Paco on the home cam .

“You haven’t seen us yet,” Erik fired back, tossing a wink your way that had you considering sin.

Was this heaven? Was this hell? Who cares,you were on your way either way, with Charlie XCX on the aux and Erik’s devilish smirk burning holes in your soul.

After what felt like a six-year road trip powered solely by vape clouds and siblings figths you finally pulled up to the lake house.

The cousins were already down by the lake, beers in hand, making questionable playlist choices. A few of the Campbells' high school friends were pre-gaming hard on the porch like it was frat formal 2012.

“LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED, BITCHES!” Bobby screamed as he yeeted himself out of the Jeep .Turns out Julia had laced his protein shake with straight vodka. Again.

“Let’s LIT this party, Campbell,” you said, lighting a joint .

Erik put on his sunglasses, fist-bumped you like a bro with secrets, and boom: the party was officially unhinged.

You started floating through the crowd, saying hey to old faces and new bad ideas. Meanwhile, Erik was busy being charming,a little too charming,with his high school crush, freshly single, freshly annoying.

You’d heard that from Jules earlier and yeah… jealousy? It showed up like a clingy ex. You pretended you were chill. You were not chill.

To distract yourself from combusting, you grabbed their younger cousin and dragged him into the cabin to help with bags.

“C’mon, kiddo. You’re my emotional support now” you said, patting his back like a coach before the big game. It was his first invite ever, and he looked like he might cry from excitement,or fear. Same difference.

Then the sun went down, and the feral switch flipped.

Beer pong was raging. Teams were set. You and Erik vs. his crush and Bobby.

This was WAR.

“Don’t mess this up, Kiki. I’m already on my last brain cell,” you hissed at him.

He cracked his neck like a dramatic little shit. “Watch me, Peach. I’ve been training for this since the womb.”

He sank the last cup like a god. Victory.

“THAT’S MY BOY!!” you shouted, making eye contact with the Barbie doll across the table and drinking in her passive-aggressive glare.

“Told ya,” Erik smirked.

You ruffled his hair and swore you saw him blush,but it could’ve been the booze… or the emotional whiplash. Unclear.

“Victory piggyback. Pay up,” you demanded.

He crouched, and you jumped on like it was your Roman chariot. Legs around his waist. Arms around his neck. Dangerously close. Questionable choices? Activated.

He was laughing. You were swaying.

“Easy, princess. You’re gonna get us both killed,” he giggled, tipsy as hell.

You kissed his cheek. Just a quick peck.

Then froze.

What. The. Actual-

His ears turned bright red. You stared. He stared back.

You panicked.

So naturally… you did it again.

This time, slower.

“Why are you so cute all of a sudden?” you whispered into his ear .

He turned his head, and that SMIRK? That cocky, I-know-what-you-want smirk?

“Now I’m cute?” he said. “Wasn’t I a loser ten minutes ago?”

“You still are,” you whispered. “But you’re my loser.”

He groaned. Not fake. Not joking. Like he was actively fighting off a decision that would ruin both your lives in the hottest way.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Before you could say “then die madly in love”, Julia screamed from the backyard like a drunk war general.

“SPIN THE BOTTLE IS HAPPENING! IF YOU'RE NOT KISSING STRANGERS IN FIVE MINUTES, YOU’RE DEAD TO ME!”

Erik looked at you. You looked at him.

And just like that,you both knew.

Tonight was about to get so, so illegal.

Everyone crowded into the living room like horny sardines. Half the room was sitting on the floor. The other half? Already tipsy, already yelling, already one dare away from getting banned from family events.

Julia had somehow turned spin-the-bottle into a spectator sport.

Rules? None. Boundaries? Absolutely not.

The bottle spun in the center like it had a personal vendetta.

You sat next to Erik, still riding the high of your piggyback-kiss stunt, until Julia clapped and screamed:

“ALRIGHT, WHO WANTS TO TRAUMA BOND?”

First spin. Chaos. Second spin. A dare that may or may not have resulted in someone licking sunscreen off a cousin's abs. Third spin? Erik’s turn.

You were sitting pretty, thinking:

“No way fate’s that evil. No way it lands on her.”

It landed on her.

The blonde. The crush. The Barbie bitch.

His high school dream with the waist of a Coke bottle and the face of a girl who cries in a cute way.

You laughed it off. Totally chill. Not even bothered. (You were so bothered.)

“Go on, lover boy,” Julia grinned, already filming. “Seal your middle school fantasy.”

Erik blinked. Looked at you. Looked at her.

Then,he kissed her.

You saw red.

Like, actual fire-nation attack red.

It was a short kiss. Innocent, maybe.

But not to you. Oh no.

To you, it was a declaration of WAR.

And the bottle? Oh, the bottle KNEW.

Next spin? Yours.

It landed right. Back. On. Erik.

The room lost it.

Everyone was screaming. Julia dropped her vape. Bobby yelled, “OOOOH NOOOO” like it was the Super Bowl.

You looked at Erik. He looked at you. There was tension. No, it was heat. The room could’ve been on fire and you would’ve blamed it on whatever was happening between your legs.

“You gonna kiss me, Peach?” he smirked, clearly thinking he was winning.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said.

And then you kissed him.

No,you made out with him. Right there. In front of everyone.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a public service announcement.

It was a “that kiss with Barbie meant nothing and this means everything” kind of kiss.

Your hands in his hair. His arms locked around your waist.

Your bodies pressed together like the only air left was in each other's mouths.

People were screaming. Julia was waving a beach towel like a flag. Bobby was filming and chanting “SPIN THAT TONGUE.” One of the cousins screamed, “IS THIS ALLOWED?!”

Erik groaned against your lips, pulled you closer, kissed you like he’d been starving for four summers and you were the last cold beer on earth.

You broke the kiss. Eventually. Maybe. (Time was fake.)

You looked at Barbie. She looked like she’d just witnessed a crime.

Good.

“Fuck me,” Erik breathed, completely dazed. “What the hell was that?”

You wiped your lip with your thumb. Smirked.

“That? That was me winning.”

The second your lips left Erik’s, the air shifted.

The room was still loud, people were still shouting,but it all felt muffled.You could still taste him. You could still feel his hands on your hips like they were claiming something.

And the worst part? The blonde was still watching.

You turned your head, slowly. She looked like she wanted to hang you. Good. She should.

But the second Erik stepped back, just a little,just enough,a knot twisted in your stomach.

Because it wasn’t supposed to feel like that.

That kiss? It was a dare. A joke. A game.

Except it wasn’t.

And the way Erik looked at you now,like he was still trying to figure out what the hell just happened,made it worse.

You shoved past him, beer still in your hand, walking toward the kitchen like you weren’t seconds away from combusting.

“Peach-”

You didn’t stop.

He followed. Of course he did.

“What was that?You fucking kissed me like you meant it,” he said behind you, voice low, tight.

You slammed your beer on the counter, spun around.

“You kissed her first.”

“Because I didn’t have a choice-!”

“No,” you snapped, stepping closer, “you wanted to. Don’t play dumb, Erik. She was your dream girl in high school, right? So congratulations. You got your kiss.”

He stared at you, breathing hard. “She’s not my dream girl anymore Peach.And it felt like nothing.”

You blinked.

“What?” you whispered.

He stepped closer. “You wanna know what that kiss with her felt like? Nothing. I felt nothing. And then you looked at me like you hated me. And then you kissed me and I haven’t been able to think straight for a goddamn second.”

You should’ve walked away. You should’ve said something smart. But you didn’t.

You grabbed his shirt, pulled him in, and kissed him like you were punishing him.

You didn’t even care anymore. Not about the people. Not about his blonde high school crush watching from the living room. Not about the fact that this was supposed to be a dumb game and a joke.

No.

You were past the point of caring.

You wanted him to feel what you felt-

That heat. That ache. That jealous, angry, horny madness burning you alive from the inside out.

Erik grabbed your hips like he owned them. Like he’d waited years to touch you like this. You kissed him like you were punishing him for making you wait.

He bit your bottom lip.

You gasped.

Your hands fisted in his shirt.

He pulled your legs up, hooked it around his hips.

And you nearly lost it.

“This is so bad,” you breathed against his mouth.

“Yeah?,” he growled. “So stop me.”

You didn’t.

You devoured him. Kissed him like revenge. Like hunger. Like the only way to kill the feeling was to climb inside his skin.

He picked you up like it was nothing,and sat you on the counter like it was his kitchen and his rules.

You moaned into his mouth. He swallowed it.

“Still jealous?” he whispered, lips dragging across your jaw.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back just enough to look him in the eyes.

“You think this is about her?” you hissed. “I’m not jealous, Erik. I’m obsessed.”

His breath caught. His fingers dug into your thighs. You felt everything,every inch of him pressed between your legs.

“Fuck,” he muttered, forehead against yours, voice wrecked. “Say that again.”

You kissed him instead. Sloppier. Hungrier. He groaned so deep it vibrated through your whole body.

Your lips moved to his neck. You bit.

He hissed.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he gasped.

You smirked, licking the bite.

“Then die on your knees.”

He groaned, buried his face in your neck, hands everywhere now,spine, ribs, under your shirt, up your sides like he wanted to learn you by touch.

You only stopped when Bobby walked into the kitchen, froze, and just muttered:

“I’m gonna go eat rocks outside.”

Except Erik, who didn’t even lift his head from your neck. He just muttered, deadpan, “Lock the damn door next time.”

You bit back a laugh, still drunk on adrenaline, lips swollen, heart racing. You looked Bobby dead in the eye.

“Good. Chew slow.”

He backed out of the kitchen like he saw Satan himself.

You finally peeled yourself off Erik, skin buzzing, brain short-circuited.

“Okay,” you said, straightening your top like it mattered. “That… escalated.”

He stepped back just enough to let you breathe but kept one hand on your waist like he wasn’t done with you.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low, eyes dark. “And we’re not even close to finished.”

Your stomach flipped.

He kissed your cheek. Innocent. Dangerous. Deadly.

“Room. Ten minutes. If you’re not there, I’m coming to get you.”

He didn’t wait for a reply.

He just walked off, shoulders tense, jaw clenched.

You blinked. Exhaled. Tried to fix your lip gloss, but your hands were shaking.

Part 2 my loves?🤭

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stark Contrast 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, lies, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online friend isn’t who he claims to be.

Characters: Tony Stark

Sister series to Captain’s Orders

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You close yourself in a stall and nearly scream. What the heck? This can't be real. Tony Stark. Eddie. One and the same. It's impossible. 

Think about it. Last night, you texted, then right there, you saw him on screen, check his phone. Coincidence. But then, how did he know your username? He's really good with tech, right? You could easily dox yourself. But then, what about Eddie? Why would he pretend to be some engineer. He is an engineer... 

It's adding up. But it can't. You can't have been talking to Tony Stark for the last year. That's impossible. Not you! 

Alright. You are not going to be his joke. You're going to go out there and tell him you know exactly what he's doing. He's making fun of you and it's not funny at all. Should he, some rich dude, probably the richest dude, have better hobbies? 

You push the stall door and grunt. It's pull. Right. You open it and slip through. 

You hurry to the door and slip in an errant puddle of water. Yeah, it's not your turn to deal with that. Don't stop, don't lose your nerve.  

Who are you to tell off Tony Stark? A billionaire? An avenger? Oof, the more you think about it, the closer you get, the worse an idea this all seems. The more scrambled the words in your head grow. 

You look down the aisles, retracing your steps to where you left him. He's not there. Yet, you hear him. His familiar, quite notable voice, carries in the dead store. Ugh, how did you not realise sooner? Now, you hear it. 

You storm down the soap dish aisle and see him standing casually as he talks to Julie. She doesn't look impressed. You come closer, slowing as his words grow clearer. 

"Yeah, she's quitting." He declares. 

You stop short and do a double take. He's not talking about you. 

"What?" Julie hisses. 

"Yeah, the job sucks. Shit pay," he puts one finger up, his other hand in his pants pocket, "uniform does nothing for that ass, and you're kind of a bitch, Julia." 

"Julie," she snarls and her eyes dart over to you. 

You gulp and sputter. Tony glances at you over his shoulder and smirks. 

"What's going on?" You squeak. 

"Well, sweetheart, I was just sharing the good news that you're moving on to greener pastures." He taunts and turns back to your manager. He tilts his head defiantly. "Not like you'll be hurting. Place is a ghost town." 

You blink as your mouth hangs open. Oh gosh, just when you thought things couldn't get worse. 

"No, I-- I'm not. I don't know him. I don't know what he's talking about--" you argue. 

Julie curls her lip. 

"Ech, you," she points at you, "get out of my store. Now." 

You flinch and look between her and Tony. He steps closer and brings his hand to your lower back. He pushes Julie's hand down. 

"Listen, Julianna, don't point at my girl like that," he warns. 

"Excuse me? This is still my store," she blusters. "I don't care who you are." 

"Uh huh," he clucks and drags his hand along your lower back as he stands straight. He reaches under his jacket and takes out his phone. "Hey, hun," he says as he dials out and puts the phone to his ear, "do me a favour, what's the store number?" 

She scoffs, "go to hell." 

"Fine, whatever," he snickers then leans into the phone, "Hey, Happy, do me a favour, look up the big box store..." he rambles on your city and the location. "Yeah, uh huh. Buy it. No, no, don't ask. Just do it. Thanks." 

He hangs up. You frown and push your shoulders up. This can't be real. 

"We'll wait for the paperwork and all that messy stuff to go through, Jenny," Tony slides his phone away. "But when it does, you're fired. Hell, I might come back just to see you hand in your keys." 

He snorts and swoops his arm around you. You wince as he ushers you forward. You're too dumbfounded to react. What is he doing? What did he do? 

You get outside before you snap back to earth. You plant your feet and try to pull away. He faces you but keep a hold of your arm. 

"So, how about some shwarma--" 

"What did you do? I need this job! I'm-- I'll lose my apartment! Oh, gosh." 

"Relax, that's not going to happen--" 

"I don't-- I-- but--" 

"It's not going to happen, babe," he brings his hand up to frame your face and steps closer, "because you're not gonna be living in that apartment. Say goodbye to this shit heap. You're moving on. Big leagues. New York. I got a nice big condo. A whole tower--" 

"Oh my god," you wriggle free of his grasp and spin away. "Oh, I'm gonna barf. This isn't real. It's not-- Tony-- Eddie. You," you face him again. "Look, this little game, it's not fun for me. You just ruined my life." 

"I bought the damn place. You want a job, I'll put you top of the pay roll--" 

"No, it's-- er--- jeez." 

“Good, because you’re not going to have time,” he goes to grab you and you dodge away from him. 

“Why? Why are you doing this? What are you doing?” You stay just out of reach. 

He smirks, “sweetheart, do you know how many women dream of this? Of me? A handsome billionaire sweeping you away from your boring life.” 

“Other women. Go find them.” 

He laughs. “You’re funny. It’s what I like about you.” 

“Please. Save us both the trouble and just go so I can beg my manager for my livelihood back--” 

You go to step past him and he catches your upper arm. He moves you back and tuts. He’s not smiling anymore. 

“You don’t get it. I’m Tony Stark. I don’t ask for what I want.” He squeezes until you whimper. “So let’s get going. Jet’s waiting.” 

“Jet-- but--” 

“What? Anything you leave behind, I’ll buy a new one, a better one. Now, come on.” He nudges you around and quickly hooks his arm around you. You stagger but he has you scampering. “I’m an important man and you’re about to be a real important woman.” 

“You--you can’t--” 

“I can. I am.” He says coolly as he walks you away from the store. “I flew all the way out here, I told your manager to kick rocks, and now I’m going home with what I came for.” He curls his fingers around your side as a shiny car chirps ahead of you. “Oh, and we both know how you are, sweetheart. You’re not going to stop me.” 

“But-- I--” 

“Private jet’s waiting. I went to all this trouble--” 

“My stuff! My apartment!” You twist out of his grasp. “Wait, wait, wait. This isn’t-- this is a joke.” 

“I’m a funny guy but I have a better sense of humour than that,” he says as he extends his arms. “I’m all yours, baby.” 

You gape at him, “I don’t-- I don’t want... that.” 

“Don’t want me? Don’t want an upgrade?” He scoffs and comes closer, grabbing your hand. “Let me tell ya something. You wouldn’t be so bitter if you weren’t so insecure.” 

“I’m not--” 

“Look, baby, it’s not a bad thing. I’m trying to build you up here. Alright? You hung up on me because you feel powerless, well, I’m gonna give you that power. Money, clothes, diamonds--” 

“Ed-- Tony—I--” you stammer. He’s right. You are helpless. 

“I mean, think about it. Who’s going to stop me?” He grins. “Not you.” 

Your eyes round and you grimace. He laughs again. It irks you. 

“You got no job, soon enough, you’ll be out of that shitty apartment too.” 

“That’s not--” You blink. “Why?” 

“Why? Do I really have to answer that?” 

You stare at him. 

He raises your hand and puts it on his shoulder as he yanks you closer, hooking his other arm around you. You lean away from him as you brace his shoulder. He nuzzles your cheek. 

“I came to take what’s mine,” he growls. “I put too much time into you, sweetheart. Tony Stark doesn’t walk away empty handed.” 

“I’m not... I’m not a thing,” you whisper and look him in the face. 

“No, you’re much more than that,” he assures you as he brings his hand to your chin. “So, let’s get a hop on it.” He drops his hand down your back and taps your ass. “I’m gonna take you back to New York, get you all dolled up, wine ya, dine ya, you know the rest.” 

Your lashes flutter. You’re dizzy. This can’t be real. You keep telling yourself that but here you are. No escape. 

“Alright,” he turns and keeps his arm across your back and checks his watch. “That pilot hates me so better not piss him off. I’ve been in enough crashes.” 

Enough? It’s probably the least concerning thing he’s said. No, it’s just another brick in the wall he built right at your back. 

🔴

You’re so rigid your bones hurt. You grip the arms of the leather chair and stare, wide-eyed, choked into silence. The situation is suffocating enough but it’s that other fear that has you paralysed. 

The thrum of the jet engine has you shaking. You’re still on the ground but not for long. You’re not ready to take off, let alone to go with this man. 

“Have some scotch,” Tony nudges your shoulder from beside you. “It’ll help.” 

You don’t react. You need to get up and leave. He can’t just spirit you away like this. It doesn’t matter if he is Iron Man. Well, you should go but you can’t move. 

“Sweetheart,” he touches your hand. “This your first time?” 

You whimper. 

He snickers and spreads his hand over yours. He peels your grip from the armrest and lifts it. Your trembling intensifies as your chest tightens. You can only think of gravity and its deadly consequences. 

“Here,” he wraps your fingers around the cup of scotch, “drink.” 

You can’t resist him as he guides the brim to your lips. He tilts your hand in his and you swallow before you can gag on the strong liquor. You drain half the glass before he pulls your hand back. You stick out your tongue in disgust. 

“Uck!” You grimace. 

“You’ll get used to the expensive stuff,” he chortles and sits back, emptying the rest. “Is this your only first or should I be gentle tonight--” 

“Stop, please,” your voice quavers. 

“You do know who I am, right? This thing falls apart, I got my suit. I’ll get us where we need to go,” he puts the glass down and sits back. “Besides, it’s safety checked and it’s Stark manufactured. That means it’s not going to go down. I will though, just in case you’re wondering.” 

You look at him and he winks. You look forward and shudder. He grabs your hand and you try to rip it away. He’s too strong. He kisses your knuckles. 

The intercom beeps. The pilot comes on, the one he said hates him, and announces that they’re ready to take off. You close your eyes and push yourself into the seat.  

The plane begins to move. Your breath clogs in your chest. You force it out only as your head begins to pulse. 

Tony pets your hand, “ah, baby, don’t worry. Ton’s here.” 

It’s not helping. It’s just a reminder that this isn’t what you want. That no matter what you say or do, or how you feel, that you have no choice in this. He knows that. He doesn’t mean it. He’s not trying to comfort you. He knows exactly the point he’s making. 

He’s going to do whatever the hell he wants, and you’ll do the exact same. Just like this flight, you’re along for the ride. 

[dclovesdanny]

Percy Jackson x Dead on Main

Jason, son of Athena, has been living in Camp Half Blood since he was 14. He had been through both of the wars as a soldier and strategist (though a lot of people assumed he was an Ares or Nemesis kid after his growth spurt.) He was now 19, and had been drafted as one of the representatives of the Athena Cabin in the camper exchange. He wasn’t expecting much from the trip, especially not a cute boy who introduced himself as one of the centurions of the fifth cohort.

Danny, legacy of Thanatos, Venus, and Vulcan, had fought in both wars. (though he wasn’t exactly involved much with Octavian outside of some misunderstandings that lead to a large portion of the monsters Octavian had hired being turned to dust) He was now eighteen, and part of the welcoming committee for the Greek transfer students.

Neither of them realized it, but both were quite well liked. More than half of Camp Halfblood had fought beside Jason, and at least two thirds of the camp had had Jason at their side as they mourned their fallen cabin members. More than 80% of New Rome owed one of the Fenton’s their lives.

Everyone watching them realized this relationship could make or break the relationships between the camps. Including the gods watching.

More facts for this au under the cut.

Every resident of New Rome had either interacted with Maddie Fenton (legacy of Venus, daughter of Thanatos, former centurion of the second cohort for five years), Jack Fenton (son of Vulcan, master engineer, inducted into the third cohort at 11), Jazz Fenton (served for a while in the fourth cohort, on track to be a therapist for demigods) or Danny.

Maddie was raised in New Rome. Her great grandmother was the daughter of Venus, and is famous for killing over fifty Cyclopes who attempted to kill a demigod (said demigod is the ancestor of Julia).

Jack was brought up by his uncle in Illinois and found out about his heritage after an incident with a hydra. He found his way to camp and ended up killing several monsters along the way.

Vlad is a descendant of Apollo and is Octavian’s second cousin (might be the wrong wording, Octavian’s mom is Vlad’s cousin).

Dick is a Hermes kid and is another representative that came along.

Sam is a descendant of Proserpine (idk how to spell it, Roman version of Persephone)

Bruce is an adult demigod who lives outside of camp and works with Chiron. He’s a grandson of Aphrodite (Thomas’s mom) and Athena (Martha’s mom).

Let me know if you want more of this au